BW C19

Chapter 19

How long did they travel like that again? By the time the sky was densely dyed with afterglow, the sound of water came from somewhere. Just as Hoeun pricked up his ears at it, the tightly standing trees opened a path. At the same time, sharp sunlight poured in.

Hoeun knit his brow. The sun had shone in the forest as well, but the sunlight here was somehow different—much whiter and more intense.

Blinking through narrowed eyes, Hoeun soon faced the scene before him.

“Ah…”

Large and small white rocks stacked in tiers filled one side of the mountain. The large ones were the size of a house; even the small ones were bigger than Hoeun’s head. Rounded smooth by time, the stones looked as if they had existed there for a very long while.

Between those rocks, a torrent peculiar to mountain streams gushed down. It was so clear it looked like panes of watery glass pouring forth; the water was truly transparent to the bottom.

It was a splendid sight.

As Hoeun stood there, dumbly admiring a view unseen within the capital, Taemuk and the soldiers began fording the stream. None of them minded whether their shoes got wet, or their trousers soaked. The horse Hoeun rode followed them and, tossing its head, stepped into the water.

The stream was not very deep—shin-high on the soldiers, knee-high in the deeper spots. Of course, there were deeper places; where stones gathered in pockets, the water was black and must have had some depth, but it was impossible to judge by eye.

Splash, splish-splash, ssshhh… splosh, ssshhh…

The clop of hooves and the tread of boots tangled with the stream’s sounds. It was strangely pleasant to hear, and Hoeun watched the pouring water with quiet fascination.

Then, suddenly, something darkish mixed into the water that had been clear enough to see the bottom. Muddy water? The hue was odd for that.

Only after staring for some time did Hoeun realize it wasn’t darkish at all—it was red.

Something red.

Red water.

Red…

“…Blood?”

Hoeun snapped up his head. Where had the blood come from? Was someone injured? Who? As he darted his eyes around, the soldiers all stood intact. Then he thought—someone not of Jeokudae must be hurt—and at that moment, something poking between distant rocks snagged his eye. A human foot in straw sandals. It was definitely a human foot. Judging by the body lying sprawled, they had fallen.

Hoeun quickly called Gilsang.

“Sergeant, there’s someone…”

But he couldn’t finish. The strong current rolled that person—no, that ankle—over toward them. The cut surface of the ankle was jagged, as if torn off by great force. Luckily or unluckily, before Hoeun could look too closely, it sluiced between the horse’s legs and was gone.

“…”

Hoeun looked at Gilsang, to see if he had seen it too. But Gilsang was staring elsewhere. Hoeun followed his gaze, but saw nothing beyond big rocks.

So he looked to Taemuk up ahead. Taemuk had already dismounted and was also staring somewhere. Soon other soldiers followed suit, dismounted, or drew their weapons.

“…”

Hoeun was confused. Nothing was visible to his eyes, so what were they all looking at? Was Jeokudae a unit that hunted ghosts as well as monsters?

Still, Hoeun felt with his whole body that something had happened—no, was about to happen. The landscape, the sky, the wind, the fluttering leaves told him so.

He gripped the reins hard. Splash—Gilsang, off his horse, came toward him.

“Young master.”

“…Y-yes?”

“Dismount.”

“Now? Here? Ah, yes.”

Realizing that questions were useless, Hoeun bobbed his head, and as he awkwardly tried to get down, Gilsang steadied him. Hoeun’s feet soon sank into the shallow water with a splash.

“Ugh…”

Cold water burrowed into his flesh without so much as asking permission; gooseflesh ran over him at once. As he pressed his lips tight and endured the unfamiliar chill, Gilsang and the other soldiers linked the reins front to back—Hoeun’s horse included.

When all the horses were connected, Taemuk, at the head, slapped his horse’s haunch. The horses began to run one by one and then thundered together toward the forest.

With the weighty movement of the horses, the ground seemed to tremble in convulsions. Hoeun saw a mirage of rocks squirming and the stream water heaving.

And as the horses disappeared into the thick of the trees, a column of water shot up not far away—shaaah! That spray soon scattered into rain. A few drops spattered Hoeun’s cheek—but before he could wipe them—

KAAAAAAAK!

From between the water columns, a monster appeared, jaws gaping as it screamed. A pitch-black body, blood-red eyes, a wide helmet-bone pulled over its head, and in the center of that helmet, two overlapping leaf-like blades—horns, or perhaps antennae.

“…”

Hoeun’s face went pale in an instant. A living monster. Until now he had only seen corpses crushed by Taemuk—this one was unmistakably alive.

Krak-akk, krk, kka-kak!

With blood-red eyes that held Jeokudae’s reflection, the monster screamed again. The leaf-shaped antennae on its helmet quivered. And within seconds, water columns sprang up on all sides. More monsters. Some rose from behind rocks where they had crouched.

Dozens appeared like that. Even at a glance, they seemed twice Jeokudae’s number. On the white rocks, wet footprints of monsters stamped thick and ugly.

“…”

Hoeun watched them, scarcely able to breathe. Gilsang snatched his elbow and strode him toward a nearby boulder.

“Stay here.”

“H-here?”

“Yes. Whatever you do, don’t run. Don’t be alone. Stay where our hands can reach you.”

Issuing warnings, Gilsang kept flicking glances around, then drew the sword at his side. Hoeun blinked rapidly and, trembling fine, nodded.

“Y-yes. Understood. I absolutely won’t run. I’ll fight too.”

Hoeun fumbled at his clothing. The pistol Father had given him—around his side, surely… But before he could find it, Gilsang locked eyes with him, fierce and blazing.

“I didn’t say fight.”

“Th-then…”

Seeing Hoeun’s dismayed face, Gilsang shoved him backward. There, between a house-sized boulder and a smaller one, was a tight crevice. He all but stuffed the smallish Hoeun into it.

“Hide here. Keep your head down. Don’t make a sound. Stay put.”

“Yes—yes! Yes!”

As if to show he understood, Hoeun folded his knees tight, making himself small. He tucked in his neck as well. Just as Gilsang nodded—exactly like that—

Splosh.

A soaking-wet monster dropped down in front of Gilsang. Before he could raise his blade, it lunged jaws-first. Those hideous teeth came right up to Gilsang’s nose.

KAAAAAAK!

But Gilsang wasn’t about to offer up his flesh. He sprang lightly in place and drove a knee up into the monster’s jaw. As its head snapped back, he plunged the sword deep into its exposed neck. Thick, slimy red blood crawled down his blade.

“Haa…”

Seeing that, Hoeun exhaled in relief—so it was dead, he thought. But—

Kkak-ak, kak, KAAAAK!

The monster wasn’t dead at all—it thrust its face forward and charged Gilsang. It slashed with hands tipped in ragged nails. The blade bit deeper into its neck, but it didn’t care. Its hunger seemed greater than fear of death. A truly ghastly beast.

Its saw-like teeth lunged farther, eager for Gilsang’s flesh. Gilsang turned his blade sideways and, with a roar—“Uuuaagh!”—swept the monster’s neck through. Trd-d-duk—the monster’s shell-like skin split.

“Gg-ihk…”

With its neck half-severed, the monster didn’t die but lost its balance. Bearing the heavy helmet-bone on its head, that weight dragged its skull along the cut, tilting it askew. The cut surface of its neck yawned open and blood poured like a waterfall. Even so, with its jaws agape, it tottered toward Gilsang.

Gilsang sliced the rest of the neck clean through. The head thumped to the ground, and he lifted his sword high and drove it into the center of the helmet.

Crack! Something hard shattered. Only then did the monster’s biting cease.